


Star of Death

by jumpingjaxx13



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, as is pellaeon, but not really, eli is a good friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 11:59:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11897295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpingjaxx13/pseuds/jumpingjaxx13
Summary: The Death Star had been destroyed.He had the poor officer repeat himself countless times, as the implications made by these words continually fell deaf to his ears. The sounds which formed from the man’s lips barely registered, each individual syllable audible but unable to be tied together to form coherent statements.The Death Star had been destroyed......And Colonel Veers hadn't made it off.





	Star of Death

**Author's Note:**

  * For [White_Rainbow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Rainbow/gifts).



> I FINALLY finished this after nearly half a year of working on it. I hope I do this wonderful pairing justice!

The Death Star had been destroyed.

 

He had the poor officer repeat himself countless times, as the implications made by these words continually fell deaf to his ears. The sounds which formed from the man’s lips barely registered, each individual syllable audible but unable to be tied together to form coherent statements. 

 

_ The Death Star had been destroyed. _

 

They had yet to receive details regarding the destruction, but Thrawn could see it as clearly as day. Despite the Death Star being so massive and potent, even the most powerful of weapons could be rendered useless if the right person knew how to turn it off. With the Rebel incursion on Scarif that happened mere hours previously, it became apparent that the buried off switch had been not only flipped, but detonated. 

 

One could only hope that the blasted Rebel who’d pulled the trigger burnt along with the res-

 

_ Oh, Hells. _

 

Thrawn squeezed his eyes shut, brow furrowing in concentration as he tried valiantly to collect his thoughts. All of those men on that station, save the lucky few who escaped, had been rendered nothing but stardust. 

 

Men he  _ knew _ . 

 

Inwardly, he began to compile a list of those he knew to have been stationed on the Death Star at the time of the attack. Grand Moff Tarkin most certainly made it off alive- while an honorable man, he wasn’t nearly so egotistical as to die alongside his adopted creation. Colonel Yularen, on the other hand, was most likely obliterated. General Tagge had most likely not made it off before damnation claimed him. At the very least, Ambassador Vanto’s diplomatic meeting had been previously rescheduled for two days from now, so he had no reason to be anywhere within the proximity. Suddenly, Thrawn’s stomach twisted horribly, nausea threatening to bubble up his throat.

 

Colonel Veers had been stationed on the Death Star-- a precautionary measure, but his presence had been required all the same. If there had ever been a man so suicidally prideful as to man a burning ship, it would be him-- something Thrawn both adored and despised him for. That immense dedication that had proclaimed him victorious was assured to seal his fate someday, and his only fear was that it already claimed him. 

 

Thrawn stood from his seat promptly, the sharp action cutting off any further ramblings from his subordinate. Red eyes glowed with a ferocity rivaled only by the light of a thousand dwarf stars, an unidentifiable throbbing in his chest propelling him forward. 

 

“I need a report of every arrival and departure from the Death Star, as well as those who never departed. Quickly.”

 

As fast as the officer ran, Thrawn’s brisk stride covered nearly as much ground in an equivalent amount of time. From the news alone, every last communo-informations worker was sent into a tailspin, fingers flying over datapads, information being extracted and stretched beyond comprehension, and all of those lagging delays…! Despite his efforts to maintain a relatively level-headed composure, his lip curled over his teeth in a preemptively frustrated snarl and his fist pounded down on the nearest flat surface. The effect was immediate and, even in his undeclared panic, he appreciated that minute moment of quiet. 

 

“This side of the room, continue in your collaborations,” he ordered, gesturing to his left with one hand. “For those of you opposite, I require a compilation of every recorded personnel on the Death Star at the time of its destruction. Immediately.”

 

The officers went to work on their respective jobs with fervor, but Thrawn felt as if the oxygen was slowly leaking from the room as the list on the screen lengthened before his eyes. 

 

_ …... _

_Motti, Conan_ I _Head of Imperial Naval Operations_

 _Tagge, Cassio_ I _General_

 _Tarkin, Wilhuff_ I _Grand Moff_

 _Veers, Maximilian_ I _Colonel_

 _Yularen, Wulff_ I _Colonel, ISB_

_ …... _

The list went on and on and on, each name representing another prime Imperial lost at the hands of the Rebels, but Thrawn quickly grew blind to the hustle and noise around him, his world narrowing into a single thin row.

 

 _Veers, Maximilian_ I _Colonel_

 

Thrawn blinked, as if refocusing would somehow change the message on the screen. 

 

 _Veers, Maximilian_ I _Colonel_

 

Bile began to crawl up his throat, lungs refusing to accept what little air it perceived left. No matter how many angles he look at it from, no matter how many times he rubbed his eyes, turned away and looked back, or demanded that the officers refresh the list, that damning section didn’t change. A silent sob tore at his chest, throat tight and body heaving forward to accommodate his anguish.

 

Colonel Maximilian Veers had not made it off of the Death Star.

 

Stepping back, Thrawn swatted away the hand of a concerned Captain Pellaeon-- one of the few people under his command to know of his…  _ affiliation _ with the prodigy groundpounder. Certainly the only one of that select handful to fully empathize with his numbing agony-- who could help him  _ understand _ just what was going on.

 

“Grand Admiral…” 

 

Thrawn shook his head, red eyes never tearing away from the screen, hypnotized by the soft blue glow of his lover’s name. “No….” he breathed, taking another step back. “No, it can’t… There must be some mistake…”

 

“Grand Admiral, please, come with me.” Pellaeon gripped Thrawn’s upper arm sturdily, both gentle and commanding at the same time as he gave it an insistent tug. Later on, he would appreciate the gesture, realizing that this man had not only recognized the spurring of an emotional collapse, but had the sensibility to remove him from the center of attention before he lost himself before his crew. How difficult it would be to rebuild such an already fragile reputation-- they might have deemed him unfit to lead in such a compromised state, possibly leading to mass mutiny. Of course, the chances of such an extreme were nominally slim, but it would be humiliating in the least. Gathering enough of what was left of his senses, Thrawn straightened and nodded, following the lead of his most trusted captain. 

 

Somehow, Pellaeon maneuvered them back to the Grand Admiral’s office without said Grand Admiral’s knowledge, for his mind had long since scattered further than could be collected in a moment’s notice. No, it was only when the captain helped him ease back into his chair that it fully dawned on him where they were. Unseeing eyes scanned over the expanse of his office, passing over worthless works of art and useless gadgetry until they locked on the face of his counterpart. The expression on the human’s face reeked of concern- not pity, but a bone deep worry for the well-being of the Chiss. Thrawn could have laughed had he not feared that tears would follow. 

 

“Sir,” he began, standing straight and regarding him carefully, more than aware of the uncanny sensitivity in this moment. Pellaeon himself had experienced the raw anguish of losing a loved one, their lives slipping right through his fingers without a thing he could do to tighten his grip. It was a joke among the ranks that one couldn’t succeed in the Empire if they had a heart, but Pellaeon saw more truth in it than intended. After all, to lose such a vital part of oneself was the greatest obstacle any warrior could ever face, and many never made it past that avalanche. Nevertheless, he had more than just simple faith that Thrawn would be one of those few strong enough to shake off the rubble and persevere.

 

“It doesn’t necessarily mean what it implies,” he offered, scrambling to find something to bring his commander back down to reality. Pellaeon moistened his lips, distressed by the vulnerability in Thrawn’s entire demeanor. “It would take more than a handful of lucky rebels to stop the great Colonel Veers! The records can only dictate who bothered to sign in and check out. Who’s to say that, with all the excitement of a battle, the colonel thought to update the log?”

 

Pellaeon silenced with a wave of Thrawn’s hand, the powerlessness of grief hanging like a dark cloud over him. Red eyes vacillated between a guarded hardness and an open woundedness, and Pellaeon wished that he would simply  _ choose one _ .

 

“Colonel Veers wouldn’t abandon ship,” the Chiss stated plainly, but one would have to be deaf not to hear the underlying mourning in his tone. “He’s far too hubristic. Even a noble retreat is unthinkable to him. Unless he had been ordered off, there is no reason as to why he wouldn’t have been aboard when…” Thrawn trailed off, swallowing thickly around the lump of words that had built up in his throat and blinking back a hot sting in his eyes. Now was  _ not _ the time for this…

 

Pellaeon nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. “I see. We will continue to examine transmissions and try to get the live communications feed back up. I will inform you of anything we find. Until then…” He paused, any remaining ounce of professionalism melting into malleable sympathy. Oh, how he hated seeing the man like this-- a reminder, of course, that he was a sensitive creature and not the breathing tactical droid many perceived him as. “Is there anything I can do for you, sir?”

 

Thrawn shook his head, his natural glow dim and expression uncannily vacant. “No. Thank you for your concern, Captain, but I require nothing else from you. You may return to your station and obtain as much information on what happened as you possibly can.”

 

While he doubted the validity of his weak assurance, Pellaeon knew better than to press a grieving man-- especially not a man as typically guarded as he. Instead, he nodded respectfully, braving a gentle pat on the Grand Admiral’s shoulder as some form of awkward comfort before stepping back out into the chaos and barking orders. Thrawn watched absently as the captain left, his head spinning as the well-oiled gears spun faster than ever before. Once the door to his office shut and left him to his lonesome, Thrawn’s resolve crumpled, the weight of this revelation beating down on him mercilessly. Colonel Veers--  _ his Max _ \-- was dead, rendered nothing but particles floating through the merciless vacuum of space. For all of his skill and genius, there wasn’t a single thing he could do to worm himself out of this corner.

 

Thrawn slumped forward, head cradled in his hands, and cried.

* * *

 

_ “This here is the main library. Most everything has been incorporated into datapads, but there’s a section in the back where they keep physical books. If you can get on the librarian’s good side, I’m sure she’ll let you back.” _

 

_ Lieutenant Thrawn hummed, scanning the environment subjectively and admiring the architectural aesthetic. One thing he’s always appreciated was the antiquated, artistic design of these beautiful holders of knowledge and legend, and the interior of the Imperial Library was no exception. All of the exquisite arches and intricately carved designs blessed his eyes, satiating his perceptive penchant. After all, the sculpting of buildings required just as much creative and cultural intuition as a stroke of a brush. As they walked, Thrawn brushed his fingers over the spines of adjacent datapads. _

 

_ “Ensign Vanto!”  _

 

_ The pair paused in their stride, Eli turning toward the source of the voice and breaking into a broad smile. Across the room stood a gaggle of officers hovering around a holomap, their minimally different uniform implying army over naval affiliation. A woman with her hair tied back in a tight ponytail waved in their direction, her insignia declaring her a lieutenant-commander. On either side of her was a man-- one of dark complexion and another of sun-kissed fairness. While the former sported a captain’s insignia, the latter bore the symbol of a colonel. What an interesting array of ranks, and they appeared to be treating one another on an equal level despite the smiling colonel obviously being the head. How interesting... _

 

_ “Lieutenant-Commander Troppe!” Eli exclaimed, gesturing for Thrawn to follow after him as he went to meet the woman. Intrigued, Thrawn folded his hands and rested them on the small of his back, scanning over the trio (now a quintet) curiously. “I didn’t know you would be here! How are you doing?” _

 

_ “I’m doing excellently, thank you,” she replied, her smile mirrored perfectly in her eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your graduation, but we’ve been working on a tactical plan for Onderon and it’s just not working right…” _

 

_ “No, no, it’s perfectly fine!” Looking back over his shoulder, Eli gestured towards Thrawn as he came closer. “Lieutenant-Commander Troppe, this is Lieutenant Thrawn, my… My  _ **_charge_ ** _. Lieutenant, this is Lieutenant-Commander Troppe of the Imperial Army. We grew up in the same neighborhood back on Lysatra.” _

 

_ Even with his excitement at reuniting with an old friend, Eli could taste the tension building up in the air at Thrawn’s introduction. The smile on Troppe’s face wavered, and the captain’s apathy morphed into a scowl. The colonel, however, was another story entirely-- something Thrawn himself took notice of. Rather than following the mold of his two companions, the shift in the colonel’s demeanor appeared more as one of curiosity and intrigue than xenophobia and disgust. That was something he’d have to keep an eye on. _

 

_ “It’s lovely to meet you, Ensign. Lieutenant.” The colonel stepped to the head of the group, extending his hand to both men in turn. His eyes were warm, a thin blue ring surrounding a kind, honey brown, and the corners pinched happily. If he didn’t know any better, Thrawn would have thought that he was genuinely pleased to make their acquaintance. “I’m Colonel Maximilian Veers, and the quiet fellow over there is Captain Ambrose Bennett. Don’t take his silence personally,” he teased, flashing a wink. “He doesn’t like much of anyone. Especially not me.” _

 

_ Thrawn glanced over at Captain Bennett, whose soft grumbles of dissent told the story well enough on their own.  _ **_A subordinate who so openly dislikes his superior, and a superior who takes it in stride enough to make jokes at his own expense about it? Interesting_ ** _ … _

 

_ Thrawn took his hand and gripped it firmly, taking note of the way Veers’s eyes widened fractionally in pleased surprise-- an expression which was mirrored when he shook Eli’s hand as well. “You’ve both got fine grips,” he praised, nodding in approval. “Neither of you are interested in the army? We could use people with your steadiness.” _

 

_ “Yeah, with all the butterfingers we’ve got…” Troppe muttered, earning a pointed glare from Bennett. One could only assume that he was the  _ **_butterfingers_ ** _ in question. _

 

_ Eager to change the subject, Eli shook his head. “Sorry, sir, but combat isn't really my thing.” _

 

_ “Never has been,” Troppe added in, smirking as she watched blood rush to Eli’s cheeks. “He was always a great big pushover. He was the kind of guy who’d stop to smell the flowers and count the mosquitoes while the rest of the bigger kids played tackle games.” _

 

_ Needless to say, this didn’t come as a surprise to Thrawn, who’d already mostly deduced how the younger man ticked. As Eli retorted with some some story about Troppe nearly breaking her neck, sanguine eyes drifted from the social scene to the tactical map hovering above the table. It appeared that the trio had been in the midst of solving a rather tricky stratagem in which their sorely outnumbered troops were surrounded. Something about that terrain looked almost familiar, no matter how impossible it would be. _

 

**_Onderon, she said…? Where have I seen this pattern before..?_ **

 

_ Before he could come to a conclusive decision, a large body stepped in front of him, dark eyes narrow and buff arms crossed over a broad chest. Thrawn deflated slightly as he raised his gaze from what was level with the man’s crotch up to his eyes. Staring back at him was none other than a particularly cross Captain Bennett. _

 

_ “What do you think you’re looking at?” he growled, as if their failure of a strategy warranted protection from inhuman eyes. “This isn’t for you to see. Army eyes only.” _

 

_ “What do you mean?” Eli questioned, the redness in his cheeks burning or another reason entirely as he shifted over to wedge himself between Thrawn and Bennett. “ _ **_Army eyes only_ ** _? Your Lieutenant Commander just invited me to help out!” _

 

_ “That’s different,” Troppe interjected, and though her words were directed towards Eli, her eyes were trained on his partner with the utmost suspicion. “You… You’re different.” _

 

_ Fury flared in Eli. “What in-- Y’all can’t be serious! You really think we wouldn’t….” Drawing in a deep breath, Eli shook his head. “Y’know, thanks a lot for the invite, but I was actually in the middle of showing Lieutenant Thrawn around the library, so-” _

 

_ “Don’t be ridiculous, Ensign Vanto,” Thrawn interrupted, holding a hand up as a peaceful request of compliance. “You’ve been more than helpful, and I would hate for you to miss an opportunity to broaden your tactical skills. If it is so wished of me, then I shall depart to another section of the library until you are done.” _

 

_ Eli blinked. “Wha-- B-But, sir, I-” _

 

_ “I insist.” Thrawn wasn’t upset with the arrangement in the slightest. If anything, it was their loss, allowing their  _ **_politics_ ** _ to act as a roadblock to the solution they so desperately needed if the plans said anything about the situation on Onderon. “I will be browsing to pass the time. Do enjoy yourselves.” With that, the Chiss turned on his heel, deaf to any other protests but still feeling a pair of eyes boring into his back as he strode away. _

* * *

 

Thrawn hadn’t realized that he’d fallen asleep until the urgent ping of a holomessage roused him from his tear-stained slumber. His cheek stuck to the desk, a sharp pain pulling at it as he peeled himself off, certain that an ugly mark would be left in its wake. Fortunately, he didn’t need to concern himself about the evidence of his tears showing through a mere hologram.

 

“ _ Grand Admiral Thrawn, _ ” greeted the figure-- one that Thrawn recognized all too well as being the slim frame of Captain Piett. “ _ I would like to inform you of a transmission we have received from an unidentified, non-imperial craft. It appears that Ambassador Vanto has taken it upon himself to hijack a Csillian vessel and intends to dock on the Chimaera upon arrival at your coordinates.” _

 

Thrawn sat up straighter, his foggy mind taking a few seconds longer than normal to process the information relegated to him. Eli Vanto, his beloved protege, was risking not only the wrath of the Chiss Ascendency but of the newly victorious Rebellion to fulfill an unspoken vow of platonic intimacy. Diplomacy be damned, Eli was the best thing that could have ever happened to not only him, but to the Empire itself. 

 

“Very well,” he stated, hoping his voice didn’t sound as rough as it felt in his raw throat. “I will inform the necessary personnel. Thank you, Captain Piett.” Without waiting for a response (which couldn’t have consisted of more than a  _ yes, sir _ ), he cut off the connection and leaned back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. Part of him swore that he could see the outline of Max’s face etched into the tile…

 

No, there was no need to travel back down that road so quickly after recovery. If Eli were to come aboard and find him as this awful mess, he would simply be subject to another round of pity and  _ Wild Space hospitality _ as he tried to cheer him up. 

 

There was no  _ cheering up _ from this-- not yet, at the very least.

 

Drawing in a deep breath, he rose from his seat and patted down the wrinkles in his shirt, adjusting the crooked insignia as he stepped back out into the heavy halls of his ship to wait for his protege to arrive.

* * *

 

_ Thrawn felt the man follow him more than anything else, and though his hairs stood on end, he forced himself into a calm, supposedly unknowing mask. The librarian had been gracious enough to grant him access to the physical books, though his fingerprints had been taken as an identifying method should something go awry. Nevertheless, he took pleasure in leaving his fingerprints dusted along the spine of every book as he passed through the aisles, searching for just the right one… _

 

_ Aha. _

 

_ “You don’t need to stalk me, Colonel,” Thrawn mused, gently tugging one of the books off of the shelf and cradling it in his hand, the cover falling open and allowing him to scan its pages. Looking over his shoulder, his suspicions were confirmed when he saw a mildly bemused groundpounder a few feet behind him. “I can guarantee that I would make awful prey.” _

 

_ Veers cleared his throat, stepping out into the aisle from where he’d peered from around the corner of a shelf. “My apologies. I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to shadow you like that. I only wish to speak with you.” _

 

_ “By all means,” Thrawn replied, turning to face the colonel face to face, the book still propped open in his hand. “Unlike what some people tend to believe, I am no feral animal. I will not bite you.” _

 

_ “Shame,” Veers mused, appearing to regain some of his suave confidence back after being startled. “I could use a good challenge right about now.” _

 

_ Thrawn arched a brow, his attention diverted from the book just long enough to give the human a quick once over. Was this man…? Absolutely not. Human romances and Chiss romances, while similar in ideology, took root in two very different manners. Or, perhaps that was just with Thrawn…  “Perhaps at a later date.” _

 

_ “I’ll hold you to it. Rumor has it that you pack a pretty good punch.” Stepping forward, Veers offered a small smile. “I wanted to apologize for my team’s behavior. They had no right to disrespect you like that. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive them.” _

 

_ “Already done,” Thrawn mused, returning his focus to the book. “I’m more than accustomed to that sort of treatment. I don’t take it personally.” He looked up over the edge of the book. “Will that be all?” _

 

_ Veers blinked, lips parting to declare his completion before hesitance prompted him to reconsider. “No, it isn’t,” he confessed, regarding Thrawn with an almost unnerving curiosity. “And I don’t think you’re quite done with me, either, are you Lieutenant Thrawn?” _

 

_ Thrawn managed a faint smile and nodded. “Very good. Come here,” he prompted, shifting the book so that the spine rested on his forearm, displaying the open page for any passerby to see. Veers stepped closer, his  _ **_closeness_ ** _ seeming to be the focal point of Thrawn’s peripheral senses. He would have to ponder that later.  _

 

_ “My apologies for snooping in on your plans,” he teased, not a droplet of regret in his voice. “I didn’t realize that such proceedings were for  _ **_army eyes only_ ** _. I hope that I can earn your forgiveness with this little piece of…..” He paused, brow furrowing slightly as he scrambled to find the word, suddenly mourning the loss of Eli’s presence.  _

 

_ “....Hold on.” Fortunately, the Chiss needn’t preoccupy himself with absent basic vocabulary for very long, for Veers quickly shifted focus to the pages of the antiquated book. Upon the papers were drawings, the lines of which matched up flawlessly with the Onderonian terrain displayed in the main lobby of the library. “Is that..?” _

 

_ “Art can be quite useful, can’t it? It’s the people’s expression of the world they see, and it can be so much deeper than an outsider’s perspective. For example,” Thrawn traced his fingers over a series of jagged strokes just beneath the horizon of the ground. “These secret tunnels that just so happen to be directly underneath our surrounded troops.” _

 

_ “How do you know they’re actually there and not just some decorative lines? Jagged depictions of delusions are often found in primitive work.” _

 

_ “Primitive work…” Thrawn shook his head. “I would hardly call the native people of Onderon  _ **_primitive_ ** _ , Colonel. If they could erect such impressive walls, why should they be unable to dig tunnels?” _

 

_ Veers paused, considering this, his intelligent contemplation making Thrawn’s skin prickle pleasantly. Could it be that this man was prone to match his wits? After doing verbal tête-à-tête with so many people consumed by  _ **_politics_ ** _ and blinded to the truth by ambition, it was an appealing thought that he may have found someone sensible enough to banter with.  _

 

_ “I suppose there’s only one way to find out,” Veers decided after a moment’s deliberation. “Your insight has been  _ **_incredibly_ ** _ valuable, Lieutenant Thrawn. I hope we can collaborate again.” _

 

_ Thrawn’s lips tugged upward in an invisible smile, just barely passing the threshold of apathy. “Indeed.” _

* * *

 

Ambassador Eli Vanto arrived within seven hours-- impressive for the distance, though he supposed he’d already begun his  _ diplomatic _ journey long before news of the Death Star came about-- completely alone, and Thrawn would have needed to be rendered blind not to notice his unsettledness. Humans always were awful at masking their emotions-- then again, he supposed that Chiss weren’t much better. When he came to greet him, he tried to maintain a dose of professionalism. Eli, on the other hand…

 

“Grand Admiral Thrawn!” Eli exclaimed, parting rapidly from the traditional welcoming party to confront the man of interest himself. At this point, he doubted the troopers minded; after all, he’d been living on Csilla for a little over two years now, so some atypical behavior was to be expected. He stopped roughly a meter in front of him, saluting respectfully before reverting to rest. 

 

“Ambassador Vanto,” Thrawn mused, unable to hide the sprinkle of mournful affection in his voice. Over the years, he’d come to regard the younger man as one of his only friends, his attachment shifting from the necessity of a translator to the bond of comrades. Though never said aloud, he was more than certain that the sentiments were mutual. Especially if Eli diverted from his path just to check on him. “It’s a pleasure, as always.”

 

The tiny muscles at the corner of Eli’s mouth tensed, as if he was fighting some unagreeable change in expression. “Yeah. Wish I could say the same. Do you have somewhere we could talk for a minute?”

 

Inwardly, Thrawn deflated. He’d seen this coming, of course-- those few friends he had were overflowing with compassion, and it was virtually impossible that Eli would break the sympathetic pattern. If Max had been present, he would have laughed, insinuating that  _ ‘Our son finally came to visit! _ ’ The very thought of that laugh and the starlike glow that accompanied it made his heart clench, accepting the knife deeper into tissue until it just  _ ended him, blast it! _

 

A handful of seconds passed and, upon realizing he wasn’t dead, Thrawn nodded. “Of course. Come with me.” With a gesture of his hand, Thrawn led the way back to his office, ignoring the artwork which littered the walls in favor of feigning dullness. When the door slid shut behind Eli, he didn’t have a moment’s time to think before--

 

“Is it true?” 

 

Thrawn blanched, his gut twisting in torment at the question. At the very least, Pellaeon had been sensible enough not to push. Then again, Pellaeon had been present when the damnation had been wrought. Everything his protege heard was second hand at best, leaving plenty of room for questions.

 

“....Is  _ what _ true?” he muttered, as if holding on to what little was left of his pretentious humor would remedy the situation. Surprisingly, it did not. 

 

“About the Death Star? Colonel Veers? The Rebellion? All of it?” 

 

In the gravest mistake of his life, Thrawn turned to look at Eli only to feel the blade dig impossible deeper.  _ That expression _ … The human’s entire being crumpled, whatever mask he’d worn in the landing having fallen off to exhibit the broken desperateness that he himself had borne not long ago. If possible, he would have eased his fears and refuted every last devilish rumor that graced his ears, but well-intended untruth always caused more damage than honesty. 

 

“Eli...”

 

“It  _ is _ , isn’t it?” 

 

Uncharacteristically, Thrawn averted his eyes, trying to mask the surrendering flash of pain. That was a sufficient answer in itself, and he heard Eli’s anguish more than anything-- a choked sound, akin to a blind loth kitten lost in a dark world without hope of ever seeing the light. Thrawn moistened his lips and nodded, head remaining fractionally bowed. 

 

“I’m afraid it is,” he confessed, not bothering to correct his posture-- what would the purpose be? Eli had already seen him at his most vulnerable as they climbed their way to the top. He had less to hide from him than from Pellaeon, and, with the loss of his Max, was likely the person he would be most open toward. Such a thought almost made him tremble. “The rebel incursion on Scarif gave them intimate knowledge of a hidden weakness within the Death Star. Only a fool wouldn't take advantage of such a trump card. But it's no matter-- after all, losing one battle does not mean relinquishing the war. Our retaliation will be swift and merciless.” While Thrawn typically favored survivors, this was a different playing field entirely. 

 

“......I'm sorry.” Eli shifted his weight, lips pouted in a frown that fell somewhere between pity and personal longing. 

 

Thrawn’s stomach flipped. “Whatever for?”

 

Eli looked up at him through long lashes, accenting an innocence that didn't quite befit an imperial officer. Perhaps that was one of many reasons he sent him away to penetrate the Ascendancy-- to protect him from losing that light. Granted, it was a touch colder and had a tendency to bitter the soul, but lacked the corruption of imperial  _ politics _ , as it was called. In his opinion, those  _ politics _ were anything but. Unfortunately, this didn't help him in dismissing Eli’s sadness entirely. 

 

“Ya don't have to be the  _ Grand Admiral _ right now. I know what he means to you. What you guys were.” Eli’s discomfort grew all the more palpable, as suggested by the sway of his body and the restlessness of his fingers as they drummed against his thigh. It almost appeared as if the younger man were preventing himself from lashing out in some manner, which would have bewildered him had his mind not been so swollen with melancholy. 

 

Thrawn raised a hand in a placating gesture, shaking his head. “It’s quite alright. I appreciate your concern, but I assure you that it’s hardly necessary. I will be fi-.”

 

“ **_Krayt spit!_ ** ”

 

He stiffened slightly, red eyes wide and flaring. It had been so long since he’d been interrupted in such a manner, and he would have taken offense to it had the words themselves not been so powerful.  _ Krayt Spit _ \-- goodness, it had been years since he’d last heard that phrase! Eli had made very careful so as not to use the term in front of superiors. While it wasn’t necessarily a  _ vulgar _ phrase, it traced him back to his Wild Space upbringing almost tighter than his accent did, and considering Thrawn’s… _ unique _ climb up the ladder, they had been in front of superiors more often than not. For him to let that slip  _ here _ and  _ now _ signaled his passion in the matter. It was due to this (and certainly not due to an unfortunate bout of speechlessness) that he kept quiet, allowing the younger man to speak his mind. Taking the silence as an invitation, Eli obliged.

 

“Listen, I know how things are with you-- I get it, even more now than I did before! All y’all on Csilla have this same guarded attitude and icy calculativeness take to just about everything. You know what I saw the other day? I saw a baby break its toy and it didn’t cry- it just sat there and  _ thought about it _ , completely calm! Honestly, if Csilla offered itself to the galaxy, it could easily take over, but it doesn’t. You’ve got it in your head that reclusion is the best option for you to  _ protect yourself and your interest _ or something like that, but it ain’t true! All it does is make you a bunch of brilliant hermits, and lemme tell you that being a hermit does no good because people start telling stories, and if you  _ do _ decide to come out in the open, everyone’s already scared of you! All these preconceived notions of what you are, and then it’s just that much harder to convince them you ain’t, and half the time it’s too much and you hide away again! And that leads to more rumors and…” 

 

Eli took in a breath, shaking his head. “Sorry. Got off on a tangent. What I wanted to say is that I  _ know _ you’re better than that. I  _ know _ you feel things. I know that you love him and that you’ve gotta be hurting really bad right now, but I also know that bottling it all up like you do is only gonna make it worse. It’s just me and you in here, isn’t it? And I hardly count as someone you’ve gotta impress. What’s the issue?” Tears welled up in the human’s eyes, born both from frustration and upset. “Just say it,  _ Mitth’raw’nuruodo! _ ” he demanded, the Cheunh name rolling naturally off his tongue, much to the surprise of the Chiss.  **_His time on Csilla has done wonders for his Cheunh. Better than I could have taught him alone._ ** “Say you’re upset! Say you miss him! Say  _ something _ , because I know what it does to someone when they don’t admit it!”

 

As a man whose first breath could have easily frozen warmer blood, Thrawn didn’t get cold, but this was the closest he’d ever gotten. His veins turned to ice, the living liquid flowing within him slowing to a stop as he stared at Eli-- at his trembling fists and red cheeks and watery eyes and angry teeth. He’d only seen this combination on him a handful of times, but never quite so intense. Lead in his stomach made it drop to his feet, blood rushing from his face until he nearly passed as a frostbitten human. He parted his lips with the intent to formulate a response, but words scrambled away from his tongue the moment he called upon them. Unable to find something suitable to say, he sealed his lips once again, biting down on the lower until it bled. 

 

In that moment, something in Eli cracked. “Why, I oughta-!” He barrelled forward, closing the minute gap between them with a handful of powerful strides, and Thrawn braced himself for a blow-- no intention to protect himself, for perhaps this was well deserved. Perhaps Eli could (quite literally) knock some sense back into him. Perhaps he didn’t want to see someone else he cared about in pain, which he could certainly inflict with ease. Perhaps-

 

Perhaps the anticipated punch never came. 

 

Strong, lean arms swung around his neck and yanked him forward, pressing his body against Eli’s, whose chin rested on a single broad shoulder. Thrawn’s entire body stiffened, a shock of surprise rendering him motionless for the shortest eternity as he recognized the gesture. Humans were rather fond of hugging, he’d discovered-- a sentiment that Chiss rarely expressed. They were warm and kind and almost intimate, and Max rather enjoyed holding him like this after their  _ recreational activities _ , but this was different. This embrace was weaker, yet stronger-- tender and comforting and solid, giving without asking. It wasn’t to say that he hadn’t enjoyed it when Max held him, but now, in the peak of his absence, Eli acted as the lock that kept him grounded. Thrawn melted, slowly bringing his arms up to wrap around the younger man’s torso and drawing in a shuddering breath.

 

“ _ I….. I  _ **_need_ ** _ him.” _

* * *

 

_ They met again. And again. And again and again and again. More ingenious military tactics were churned out in the months of their union than in the full gestation of the Empire up to this point. Brilliant strategy followed by flawless execution marked the fruit of their endeavors, and Imperial presence spread and dominated countless regions with newfound ease. With each success came another assignment dealt upon the Colonel, which only created a new excuse to reconvene in the belly of that library. The duo would spend hours on end propped over a table, scanning through maps and books and comparing them to the desired terrain. The closer and closer they became to a victorious conclusion, the closer and closer their physical beings grew. Had they not been careful, Thrawn didn’t possess a single doubt that they would have long since knocked heads.  _

 

_ Regardless of how abnormal it seemed to his own sensibilities, Thrawn spent nearly as much time studying Veers as the maps-- something the man in question was already sorely aware of. For better or for worse, he didn’t appear to mind how those inhumanly crimson eyes occasionally drifted from their focal point to bear into his skin, for it would be rather hypocritical of him if he had. The Colonel’s gaze was nearly tangible as they took turns between appraising the map and each other, the atmosphere between them crackling with a mutual, unspoken electricity. Nevertheless, despite this reciprocated curiosity, neither bothered to breach that flimsy line of defense and bring it out into the open.  _

 

**_Why?_ ** _ Thrawn couldn’t help but wonder.  _

 

_ Could it be his newest promotion? Even though he’d been climbing rung after rung, this was the first meeting in which Thrawn’s insignia declared him to be of higher rank than Veers. He tended not to mind casual integration of hierarchy so long as he was the pinnacle, but always exhibited respectful reverence to his superiors. In the translation between army and navy, his new rank of  _ **_Commodore_ ** _ placed him above Veers-- what an odd concept! Had this new arrangement made his human counterpart uncomfortable? He didn’t strike him as the type to allow such a petty thing to shift the entire demeanor of their partnership, but humans were such a  _ **_fickle_ ** _ species and tended not to react favorably to social change…  _

 

_ “. _ **_..awn? Commodore Thrawn?_ ** _ ”  _

 

_ The voice beside him tore him from his thoughts, prompting him to blink rapidly as he returned to focus. Veers’s lips were slanted in an amused smile, those blue-ringed eyes sparkling with something akin to knowing inquiry. Suddenly, a prickle of heat spread across his cheeks as he realized the implications of that look--  _ **_he'd been staring_ ** _. Clearing his throat, Thrawn ignored the skip in his heart and averted his gaze lest he continue this prolonged  _ **_stare_ ** _.  _

 

_ “Apologies, Colonel,” he muttered, turning his face back toward the display entirely. “It appears I'm a touch distracted today. Forgive me.” _

 

_ “There's nothing to forgive,” Veers replied, voice laced with amusement. “Though, I never thought I'd see the day you of all people would be distracted. Tell me, is there something on your mind?” He asked the question as if he already knew the answer-- something Thrawn himself was already more than accustomed to.  _

 

_ Thrawn paused, contemplating his options. Every possible response to such a question raced through his mind, ranging from assertion of rank to divert Veers’s attention from his fluke to pouring out the contents of a guarded heart like water from a pitcher. Dismissal would do wonderfully, but leave something empty in the space between them that he'd grown rather displeased with in months past. Nevertheless, a dose of complete honesty held the potential of damaging what relationship they'd built up, especially if his intuition had been warped by personal interest. He spared Veers another glance, memorizing his body language--  _ **_relaxed, open posture, curious eyes, smile corrupted by a slight smirk; confident and accepting_ ** _ \-- before correcting his posture and fighting back a shallow sigh.  _

 

_ “There is, in fact, something that's been plaguing me,” he confessed, watching the groundpounder through his peripherals as he studied the map-- _ **_Desert planet with a cold climate means bitter nights with sandstorms. All artistic renditions point to an eastward origin, so our troops are positioned on the windward side. We must maneuver around the mountain to shield ourselves from devastation._ ** _ “Something I hope you can help me address.” _

 

_ “Oh?” From what little he could make of his face, Veers’s mouth had taken on a comical ‘O’ shape with the question. Somewhere behind the shroud of his apathy lay the notion that it was  _ **_endearing_ ** _. “And that would be..?” _

 

_ “You've been uncannily reserved today,” Thrawn began, choosing his words carefully as he led into his true inquiry. “As far as I'm aware, our interactions have been otherwise routine, the only change being my rank of Commodore. Which leads me to wonder whether your no longer being the superior figure makes you uncomfortable? I can assure you that I don't intend to hold or abuse any sort of authority over you. Actually, I would much prefer it if you disregarded my rank entirely in these meetings, especially if it causes you this much distress.”  _

 

_ Silence reigned supreme over them for the shortest of eternities, and their weight inhibited Thrawn’s head from turning to look upon his companion. Had the air in the room always been so oppressively dry? He felt as if his sandpaper lungs could barely draw it in, much less obtain necessary fuel from it. Why was it that such a confession should impact him in such a violent manner? Had it been any other man, would this silence be nearly as suffocating? He doubted it. _

 

_ Finally, a low rumble broke the silence-- a sound that would have easily startled a lesser man. For his part, Thrawn simply tensed, shoulders mimicking the stiffest of beams as he braced himself against the table. A  _ **_growl._ ** _ Was Veers  _ **_growling_ ** _..? No… As quickly as it began, the sound blossomed from a dark roll to a lighter chuckle; a sound that could only be defined as joyful.  _ **_Laughter_ ** _..? _

 

_ “I didn’t realize that you would find my concerns humorous,” Thrawn stated, pursing his lips slightly in contained distaste. “Care to explain?” _

 

_ “My apologies. It was just so…  _ **_unexpected_ ** _ ,” Veers mused, shaking his head. “It’s flattering that you care so much for my comfort. Rest assured, you don’t make me uncomfortable in the slightest, regardless of rank. I didn’t mean to distress you with my behavior, but I’ve had a few things on my mind as well.”  _

 

_ “Oh?And that would be…?” Thrawn echoed, finally turning his face in the direction of his companion. The expression he was met with was almost unreadable in context. Had it been any other man in any other situation, he would have interpreted it as desire.  _ **_Dark eyes, swollen pupils, slight incline forward with the intent to come closer. Lips parted, gaze dropping inches from his eyes_ ** _. If he didn’t know any better, he could have sworn that Veers was getting closer… _

 

_ No. That was most definitely not his imagination. Thrawn blinked, parting his lips to draw in a soft breath as his pulse stuttered in his chest.  _ **_What was this_ ** _.. _ **_?_ **

 

_ Wary and anticipating simultaneously, Thrawn stood his ground, permitting the already minimal space between them to shrink considerably. “Colonel, I-” _

 

_ Whatever ‘ _ **_he was’_ ** _ was forever lost to the unspoken vacuum of history, snatched away by the the sudden silence.  _

 

_ Thrawn’s mind registered the kiss long before it became reality, but his body took a few eternal moments longer, leaving him lingering wide-eyed in the space between triumphant and dumbstruck. It was soft, the sensation mimicking the press of delicate petals in contrast to the heaviness he'd imagined, and those ever changing hues stared directly into the red oblivion and making him feel much more vulnerable than he liked. It almost seemed that the human could see into his very soul-- a sentiment that he was more than certain was mutual. Given more time, he easily could have melted into the affection and let his eyes slip closed and simply  _ **_accepted_ ** _ the moment, but it was torn away faster than he could sufficiently comprehend. _

 

_ Chastity preserved, Veers broke away after a few endless seconds, the tips of Thrawn’s lips prickling with the phantoms of their kiss. By reflex, he swiped his tongue over his lips to soothe the tingle, inadvertently taking in the flavor of his.. His… Oh, there were no words to describe their relation in that moment. Veers’s countenance glimmered with a strong emotion, the name of which rested rebelliously on the tip of his tongue, but was polluted by a flicker of hesitance. Regardless of his brawn, he was still human, and humans tended to be more sensitive to the whims of their emotions, which were often in a duel with rationality.  _

 

_ “...Desiderating a superior officer?” Thrawn managed eventually, the electricity between them crackling with unseen ferocity. “How brazen. Not to say that I would expect anything less.” _

 

_ His commentary seeming to bring Veers back to reality, his lips twitched upward in an almost formless smile. “I thought you said that you had no intention of lording your promotion over me?” _

 

_ “Indeed, I did,” Thrawn agreed, taking note both of the sparkle in Veers’s eyes and the way it made his stomach flutter. There was a hint of redness in pale cheeks, the unwittingly expressive nature of humans all the more alluring in that moment. It was highly unprofessional, but he couldn’t suppress the desire to- _

 

_ “So? I assume this clarifies your…  _ **_misunderstanding_ ** _ sufficiently?” Veers probed.  _ **_His voice is strong without a trace of fear, but the tension in his shoulders and angle of his body suggest that his fight-or-flight instinct is prime to kick in. Tread carefully._ **

 

_ Thrawn nodded. “It did. This encounter had been most…  _ **_enlightening_ ** _ ,” he mused, hoping his reaction would assure rather than frighten him. “And, if you don’t mind, I have a clarification to make myself.” _

 

**_He swallows, obviously unsure but intrigued. His body shifts to angle him closer, lessening the likelihood of flight._ **

 

_ “I don’t see how I could stop you,” he mused, cracking a smile as an attempt to pass off a joke. “Be my guest.” _

 

_ Though his expression remained firm, Thrawn could feel his pulse pounding between his ears. What had begun as an analysis of the situation on Jakku hadn’t given him  _ **_any_ ** _ indication that it would end like this. Tilting his chin up, he regarded Veers carefully. _

 

_ “When I suggested earlier that you disregard my rank, I fear you may have misunderstood that as my wanting to be equal,” he began, making sure to maintain that calculative mask he was famous for. “It is true that I want you to regard me as you would someone of equal or lesser rank, but my virtues stop there.” For the first time since he’d begun his own advances, Thrawn dropped his gaze from suspicious eyes down to pale lips, feeling the desire for their petal soft caress increase tenfold with proximity. The only thing preventing him from claiming it was his own inhibitions. _

 

_ Inhibitions which he promptly released. _

 

_ A single spark of initiative was all it took to push him over the threshold of resistance and allow him to return the kiss he’d been given. He could almost taste Veers’s heartbeat skyrocketing, surprise melting rapidly into elation and eventual giddiness. The smile against his own lips was equally as charming to feel as it was to see, and Thrawn could feel his very bones begin to warm. Slowly, he raised his hand, tracing the line of Veers’s jaw before taking hold of his jaw and grasping his wrist with the other. _

 

_ “I do not wish to be equal,” he confessed, the words barely more than vibrations muttered against his lips. “I wish for you to be  _ **_mine_ ** _.” _

* * *

 

“So…” Thrawn started, drawing in a deep breath to recollect himself. Such an emotional display hardly ever happened for the Chiss, and to have multiple breaches of collected character in a row was frankly exhausting. Straightening his posture and creating a friendly distance between himself and Eli, he scrambled for a change in topic. Though he could still feel the warm aura of their embrace, he tried his hardest to ignore the delicate comfort it offered. “How is the situation on Csilla? I assume you’re being treated well?”

 

Eli’s brow quirked, but he didn’t question the shift. After having been the tailing shadow of the man for all of those years, he’d long since learned to recognize the meaning behind his little shifts and quirks. Especially now that he’d lived amongst the people Thrawn had once regarded as brethren, he understood better than ever what was going through his mind in any social situation. What he had originally attributed to being a series of poor personality traits could now be recognized as culturally implemented, socially enforced calculation and suppression of emotion. Granted, the extremity of this cold expression varied heavily between individuals, but it was still rather…  _ disconcerting _ to say the least. 

 

“Well as I can be, I suppose. It’s colder than anything, but they’re pretty accommodating,” he mused. “I’ve been working with some of the more liberal thinkers to try and change the diplomatic and war policies, too. It’s not the fastest moving process and there’s a ton of resistance, but we’re edging our way through. Oh, that reminds me! Syndic  _ Mitth’ras’safris _ wanted me to let you know that he’s doing alright and that he’s thinking about you and can’t wait to see you in person again.” Truth be told, what Thrass had  _ actually _ said was ‘ _ Give Mitth’raw’nuruodo my regards and wish him well,’ _ but he felt that it was far too stiff of an exchange for a relationship as intimate as family. 

 

At the mention of his brother, Thrawn appeared to perk up slightly, his mouth silently forming around his name. Before he’d gone to Csilla, Eli hadn’t been aware that Thrawn even  _ had _ family-- a foolish idea, really, but it simply hadn’t occurred to him. Needless to say, finding out that he had a  _ brother _ of all things had come as quite a shock, especially once he discovered that their relationship was rather close. Yet, seeing as Thrass had been in a catatonic state when Thrawn was…  _ forcibly departed _ , it was understandable that he’d want to keep those sentiments to himself. 

 

“I’m pleased to hear it,” he mused, barely pressing beyond the veil of external apathy. “Do make sure to return the sentiments. It’s been… quite a while since I’ve seen him.”

 

“I’ve got the frequency code memorized if you want to try a long distance communication..?” Eli offered. “I couldn’t get through until I was about three-quarters of the way here, but it’s always worth a try.”

 

“No, no. That’s quite alright…” Thrawn trailed off, his voice fading into nothingness as he stared at Eli. In the beginning of their  _ unique _ relationship, those soul-boring red eyes unnerved him to no end, but time taught him to ignore the way it made his skin crawl. Tilting his head in inquiry, he allowed the silence to resonate for a few minutes before it became apparent that the Chiss had no intention of breaking it. 

 

Clearing his throat, Eli quirked a brow. “......Is…. Is something wrong?”

 

Thrawn shook his head, the movement short and stiff, consumed by pensive conflict. The idea of contacting his brother, while not repulsive in a sentimental sense, was abhorrent in context of the situation. The Death Star’s destruction scattered communications-- communications which every officer actively scrambled to pick back up. Locating survivors and regrouping stood countless tiers above this selfish desire, but it was such an appealing alternative to the insipid distractions of small talk. Would a retrieval of one lost piece of his life perhaps dull the wound of another? When it came down to it, only the empirical method could determine it. 

 

“....On second thought, I may like to take you up on that offer,” he confessed eventually, simultaneously grounded in the moment and more distant than Csilla itself. Biting lightly on the inside of his lip, he returned to focus.  **_His lips are pursed and there's a faint crease in his brow. Concern and confusion._ ** “I would like to attempt setting up a comm with my brother. You said you know the frequency, so I suspect that, at the very least, a trial should be possible.”

 

Eli blinked. “I mean… Yeah, we can try. But do you mean  _ now _ ?”

 

“When else would be better?”

 

_ ‘Anytime other than now,’ _ Eli wanted to say, but knew better than to let the criticism leave the tip of his tongue. Instead, he nodded, shrugging slightly. “Can't argue with that. Might be a little difficult to find an open comm, though.”

 

“Understood.” 

 

Eli sighed at the blatant finality in his voice. He supposed he couldn't complain-- he'd been the one to suggest it, after all. Hells, for all he knew, this was his own special way of coping-- replacing one loss with another. “If that’s what you really want to do, then we’d best get going. Who knows how long the comms will be up with all this flooding.”

 

Taking that as a sign to move on, Thrawn gestured for the younger man to follow behind him as they breached into communications once again. In the time they’d been isolated in the chilled office, the chaos had faded into a trickle of scrambling officers and desperate calls. Names and codes were slung across the halls, confirmations and clarifications polluting the air with noise. Based on the flush of their cheeks and the pitch of chatter, someone had finally gotten through to another vessel.

 

“-and your coordinates?”

“-dentification? We can’t have any-”

“-bels sent you where? We’re close to-”

“-ick you up immediately. Is it just you, sir?... Yes, alright. We’ll be right by.”

 

The final speaker, a lieutenant by the name of Marakov, forwarded the coordinates he received to flight control before leaning back in his chair with a triumphant smile on his face. Seeing the Grand Admiral looming in the entryway, however, sent him shooting to his feet and offering an awkward salute. 

 

“Grand Admiral Thrawn, sir!” he exclaimed, the slope of his beam not faltering for a moment. “We’ve made contact with an army officer that was dispatched to Yavin. He was too close to the weapon at the time of the attack, so his systems were fried in the explosion. He’s crash landed on the jungle moon, Yavin 4. We’re sending out a team to collect him as soon as the area’s been cleared.”

 

“As soon as the area’s cleared..?” Eli echoed, brow furrowing slightly in thought. “But that could be days from now, if not months! Isn’t that moon confirmed to be right at the heart of the Rebellion? It would be a miracle if they don’t find him within a few hours, much less days or weeks. Then, depending on his rank, we could have a full-fledged hostage situation on our hands! As if this wasn’t humiliating enough…”

 

Marakov’s once proud posture deflated with Eli’s every word. The boy had likely been so caught up in the triumph of finally making contact with a survivor that the logistics of it completely slipped his mind-- as  _ human _ a mistake as any, allowing emotions to stymie efficient tactic. Moistening his lips, he nodded respectfully. “Yes, sir, I understand, but if I may speak freely, going in right now would be suicidal. Our resources are already so crippled that the chances of success are miniscule and it would only lead to a heavier embarrassment…. If you don’t mind me saying, of course, sir.”

 

“He’s right,” Thrawn chimed in, staring analytically at the lieutenant. He had better intuition than he’d originally given him credit for regardless of his susceptibility to human mental barriers. “To launch a search and rescue mission at this point in time would be far too risky. But there is the question of this officer’s capabilities before we can decide when the delay is long enough. Lieutenant Marakov,” he mused, feeling a hint of amusement as the young man perked up again. “Would you please share the identity of this officer you located?”

 

The flash of stupor that graced Marakov’s face would have been comical had it been given the chance. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped into a surprised little ‘O’. “Oh, I didn’t mention it earlier? My apologies, sir. It was  _ Colonel Veers _ .”

 

In that moment, time slowed to a stop. 

 

_ It was Colonel Veers.  _ **_It was Colonel Veers_ ** _. _

 

The words echoed in his head, bouncing around between his ears like a melody in a minor key-- beautiful, yet haunting all the same. 

 

Somewhere in the peripherals of his conscience, he saw Eli turn to look at him, the movements slow and heavy as if forced through gelatin. He saw a self-conscious confusion melt over Marakov’s expression, the shifts in his features languid enough that it was nearly comical. He knew that he must look so foolish, failing to respond in an appropriate amount of time, but shock rendered him speechless.

 

Internally, he wanted to scream-- hells, if not for the disconnect between his person and reality, he may have. Had the room felt any colder to icy blood, his breaths would have condensed immediately upon leaving the body. Never before had he undergone so much violent emotional turmoil in a span of 48 standard hours, his brother’s supposed death and recovery taking up the span of multiple weeks. After having barely adjusted to the idea of his Max slipping through the veil of grim fate, the man was thrust upon him once again. Not unlike their initial routine, he supposed, seeing as how Max tended to follow him just about everywhere in the beginning-- through the library, cognitive maps, and a thousand millennia of artwork alike. Something as simple as the untimely death of a planet killer wasn’t nearly enough to bring a man like him to his knees. Pellaeon’s words from earlier joined the fray: “ _ It doesn’t necessarily mean what it implies.The records can only dictate who bothered to sign in and check out.”  _ In the heat of the moment, he’d dismissed this as a cheat, but now…

 

What a  _ fool _ Maximillian Veers was; Surely, Thrawn followed suit.

 

Thrawn drew in a deep breath through his nose, eyes slipping shut before he burned holes into the young lieutenant. His exhale was shallow and long, accented by the nodding of his head. “I see,” he mused, opening his eyes once again. “Colonel Veers is a very capable man. He will survive longer than most in those conditions. The maximum delay time is one month-- any longer, and we’ll be running risks we’re not at liberty to.”

 

Eli’s concern quickly morphed into incredulity, the tension in his jaw suggesting that he was preventing himself from gaping or snarling. Either way, his displeasure with that statement was tangible. Thrawn spared him a sideways glance:  _ Later _ .

 

“A month, sir?” Marakov repeated with a curt nod. “Shall I alert flight command?”

 

“No need. I shall relay the decision myself,” Thrawn insisted. “Continue making contact with stranded survivors. See if there’s anyone in a better situation that we can retrieve immediately and alert command of that. I will see to the case of Colonel Veers personally.”

 

One salute and respectful agreement later, Thrawn and Eli found themselves en route to the flight command center. Eli’s frustration tainted the air, giving it a sour taste that the Chiss couldn’t ignore. Another peculiar thing about humans was that they preferred to leave their problems to guessing rather than stating them outright. There was no wondering why they, as a species, harbored the highest divorce rate in the galaxy. Thrawn slowed to a stop, turning to look at his smaller counterpart completely. 

 

“You are displeased with how I handled the situation?” he probed, head tilted fractionally in inquiry. 

 

Eli hesitated, glancing quickly over his shoulder before his upset vanished, replaced by bitter bewilderment. “You’re not  _ really _ going to leave him there for a month, are you? In the heart of rebel territory, on a jungle moon that’s virtually uncharted, and left to fend for himself?”

 

“What do you think?” Thrawn questioned, prompting Eli to truly ponder his actions before drawing conclusions. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but appreciate the nostalgic familiarity of the situation.  **_His brow creases slightly in thought, but the tension in his neck decreases. He’s relaxing_ ** .

 

“I think…” Eli shifted his posture, presenting himself as much more confident than before. “I think you’re setting something up. You’re gonna go down there alone, aren’t you?”

 

Thrawn hummed, lips pressed together in thin satisfaction. “You’re very observant.” For reasons he couldn’t begin to define, Eli’s frustration didn’t fade in the slightest-- if anything, it flared. Not particularly wanting to deal with his spitfire emotions, Thrawn easily maneuvered around it. “I expect you to arrive at control and deliver the message as previously stated. This excursion shouldn’t take more than a day or two at most, but I would like you to assume command until my return. I will return with Colonel Veers promptly, so long as everything goes to plan.”

 

“And if it doesn’t?”

 

“That’s not an option, is it?” Thrawn rebutted. Part of him wanted to complete the statement that had been everything his rebellious heart demanded--  _ I will return with Colonel Veers or not at all _ . Such a violent sentiment was foolish, however, and his rational mind resisted it as much as possible. He was far too important to lose his life in pursuit of a heartfelt obsession, even if he did plan on scavenging through the jungles alone.

 

Eli, for his part, nearly wilted in concession. “I guess not,” he mumbled, though his face remained contorted in tight dissent. Looking up at Thrawn, he glared decidedly into glowing orbs and shook his head. “You’re forgetting one really important thing about all of this, though.”

 

“Oh?” Thrawn arched a brow, trying to predict Eli’s declaration. Would he cite his emotional state-- impulsivity and blind judgement were at their prime, even for a man who harbored so little. The way his body was angled toward him suggested that prolonged union was preferred over an easy escape. Chances were high that he would demand to come along, regardless of Thrawn’s orders and personal safety. “And that would be..?”

 

“There is no kriffing way you're doing this alone.” The finality in Eli’s voice would have easily submitted any lesser man, but this particular duo had mastered the art of butting heads. All sense of formality lost, Thrawn was in the familiar situation of a confrontation-- of someone questioning and threatening his authority. Had it been any other man, he would have dealt out quite the verbal lashing and put him in his place. In a sense, he supposed this fit-- once again, Eli’s place was by his side. “I'm coming with you.”

 

“Are you, now?” he questioned, borderline amused. “As much as I appreciate your concern, rest assured that I am more than capable of retrieving him on my own. Besides,  _ someone _ competent must be left in charge. A crew cannot be subject to anarchy in a time of crisis.”

 

Refusing to take the bait, Eli pursed his lips and flashed a disbelieving look. “There are plenty of  _ competent _ officers aboard. I know you wouldn't settle for anything less. What about Captains Pellaeon and Piett? Admiral Ozzel?” -Eli ignored the infantile smirk on Thrawn’s lips- “Surely, there must be someone you consider suitable to take command. Especially if it's  _ only _ a day or two. There's no pride for you to protect here, and we both know that you're better off with me coming along.”

 

The truth of that statement couldn't be denied. Not only did it cite the age old policy of numerical advantage, but he also had plenty of efficient officers to assume temporary command in his absence. Captain Pellaeon, for instance, definitely stole the position of best suited to lead. Despite his initial determination to rely solely on his own abilities, having a second set of eyes could prove invaluable… 

 

Thrawn let the contemplative silence resonate for a moment before relenting. “Very well. I shall inform Captain Pellaeon of the situation while you prepare a shuttle for our departure-- one with a cloaking feature, preferably.” The delegation of the task was purposeful, for giving Eli control of departure assured him that Thrawn wouldn't-- no,  _ couldn't _ \-- leave without him. Unnecessary, perhaps, but he did love exercising mind games. Mind games he was more than certain Eli knew inside and out. 

 

Apparently too relieved by his capitulation to protest his method--  _ “You don’t need to trick me into trusting you! I already do!” _ \-- Eli nodded.  **_His shoulders are tense and the corners of his lips are tight, but he already seems much more relaxed. This is familiar to him, no matter how dangerous._ **

 

“Alright,” he agreed. A quick exchange of words and temporary dismissal later, the pair parted ways to complete their respective tasks. With every step Thrawn took in the opposite direction, anticipation built up behind restricting walls in his chest. 

 

_ Eli Vanto will return with Colonel Veers whether I do or not. _

 

And that was final.

* * *

  
  


_ Sex with Max was the closest thing to a drug Thrawn had ever experienced. His lips held the flavor of the universe’s every delicacy, the lingering taste ever alluringly addictive and drawing him back between desperate breaths. Every nerve flickered to life under his touch, the human’s body a blazing inferno against his own. Coming from a planet so obscenely cold, this heat was overwhelming, awakening him in all the best ways. And the sounds-- oh, he’d never heard a melody quite so enticing in his life! An intricate, passionate duet as a testament to their desire surpassing the greatest of symphonies to grace his ears. With every kiss, touch, caress, and utterance of worship, Thrawn fell deeper and deeper into this endless, sentimental abyss. _

 

_ “ _ **_Mitth’raw’nuruodo~_ ** _ ” Max moaned, his name rolling flawlessly off his tongue in a way no other human could manage. That alone drew a long moan from him, blue fingers digging into sun-kissed shoulders and head resting in the curve of Max’s neck as the two rode out the peak of their high. _

 

_ Thrawn collapsed on the bed, rolling off to the side so as not to crush his lover whilst they both caught their breath. Cerulean lids slid shut over blazing rubies and his heart beat between his ears, tension fading into contentment as he was drawn into Max’s arms. Calloused hands wandered over his body in something akin to wonder, as if they hadn’t just explored every inch moments ago. He melted under the touch, and he easily could have drifted away were he not irritatingly aware of the necessity of his presence soon. Just taking this short sexual reprieve was a risk he wasn’t certain he should have taken, but the warmth of Max’s body assured him that it had been worth it.  _

 

_ Eventually, those fingers found their way into tousled blue-black hair and threaded through it, the gentle petting making Thrawn’s skin prickle pleasantly. A smile blossomed on his lips, accented by a satisfied hum as he reached out and allowed his fingers to trace the curve of Max’s spine. No matter how much he prided his position as Grand Admiral and the benefits that followed, quiet moments like these were always coveted. He was about to declare as much-- his enjoyment, his gratitude, his desire to repeat-- before the air between them was snatched by Max. _

 

_ “ _ **_Ch'ah ch'acah vah_ ** _ ” _

 

_ The words were delivered in choppy, broken, painfully human Cheunh, lacking the flow of a native tongue. They were soggy without the crisp bite of a true Chiss’s voice, yet jagged without practice and blatant mimicry. Honestly, it was a hideous sound that should have made his skin crawl and his eyes roll back with foam at the mouth. _

 

_ But it didn’t. And none of that mattered.  _

 

_ Thrawn’s eyes shot open. “Where did you learn that?” _

 

_ “Does it matter?” Max muttered. If he was taken aback by Thrawn’s reaction, those adoring, smiling eyes didn’t show it. He always gazed upon him like this, as if Thrawn were the artwork instead of the alternative.  _

 

_ “Of course it does,” Thrawn argued, untangling himself from Max’s arms and propping himself up on his elbows.  _

 

_ Sighing, Max lolled his head back as if considering the worth of pursuing this before sitting up completely. This game of advantage was one every good tactician played (and one that they’d both mastered in more than one terrain). Thrawn, for his part followed suit, making them eye level once again.  _

 

_ “If you must know, you talk to yourself a lot,” Max confessed, shrugging his shoulders with feigned nonchalance. If the way he bit his cheek said anything, his nerves had much more to say than willingly expressed. “When you’re thinking, when you’re on the verge of sleeping, and things like that. I started picking some of it up.” He paused, the flash of anxiety in his eyes quickly covered up by his typical suave confidence. “I… I did say it right, right?” _

 

_ Thrawn drew in a deep breath, his heart climbing into his throat and threatening to choke him off. Did…  _ **_Did_ ** _ he say it right? Was that what he  _ **_intended_ ** _ to say, or did he fall victim to the ensnaring tangles of a language barrier? He scanned over him scrupulously, mentally searching for any signs of hesitance.  _

 

_ He found  _ **_plenty_ ** _. _

 

_ “I suppose…. That would depend on what you wanted to say,” Thrawn mused, keeping himself as collected as possible. Not many things could surprise him, but he’d never even  _ **_considered_ ** _ … _

 

_ Max’s lips twitched up, pulling into a thin smile. “You know what I wanted to say.” _

 

_ Thrawn moistened his lips, internally battling between an infinite number of reactions. “I… I do,” he eventually agreed, nodding in understanding. “You said it correctly if by  _ **_correct_ ** _ you refer to grammatical structure and denotation. Your fluency, on the other hand, is cringe worthy. I don't think I've ever heard you say something so ugly.” _

 

_ A bark of laughter accented the end of his sentence, bringing Thrawn some comfort in knowing that humor hadn't been lost.  _ **_An officer who was casual enough to make jokes at himself._ **

 

_ “Alright, then,” Max replied, cheeks flushed with more than just lingering heat as he placed a hand on Thrawn’s knee, tracing gentle circles with his thumb. “Are you going to teach me how to say it right?” _

 

_ “Perhaps,” Thrawn relented, turning over the hand on his knee and entangling it in his own. He gave it a gentle squeeze-- a reassurance that his lack of verbal reciprocation was inequivalent to rejection. “I could still make a fluent speaker out of you, if you desired it.” _

 

_ Max smiled, resonating a much calmer confidence than before. “Let’s start small and work up, alright?” _

 

_ “Start small and work up?” Thrawn mused, lips twitching upward in a teasing smile. “I don’t believe Maximilian Veers has done anything in reasonable proportion in his life. Am I lying with the same man?” _

 

_ Deviance sparkled in honey colored pools, the grip on his hand growing fractionally tighter as Max tugged him closer, the tips of their noses brushing together. The intensity of his gaze was electric, and Thrawn could feel it crackling in the minimal space between them. Despite himself, his body declared his interest piqued. _

 

_ “There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” prompted Max, his voice underlined with a low purr. Caught between commenting on his eager refraction and listing a great number of ways to prove his identity, Thrawn decided on a kiss. The tender kiss toppled into hours of  _ **_‘proving’_ ** _ themselves to one another, Max’s words lost in the white background and never acknowledged again aside from the comforting echo in Thrawn’s lonely dreams. _

 

**_“Ch'ah ch'acah vah_ ** _ ” _

 

**_“I love you”_ **

* * *

 

Jungle air could suffocate a thousand men-- of that much, Thrawn was more than certain. He’d traveled to countless collections of tropics and trees that harbored infinite species and cultures, but the air always remained the same. Every atom of oxygen was drowned in vapor, and simply stepping outside the shuttle soaked an intruder, the thickness sticking to his skin and coating his lungs in liquid. Of all the dangers a jungle posed, simply breathing was the most concerning, and he warned Eli of as much when the shuttle touched down. 

 

When the jaw of the shuttle opened, an eruption of steam surrounding them as the controlled air met wild humidity. Whereas Thrawn knew to hold his breath, Eli coughed, beating away at the invasive cloud until it cleared. Upon witnessing the face of the forest, he gaped. 

 

“By the stars….”

 

Thrawn hummed in agreement. Aside from the assured similarity of heavy air, each forest boasted radically different forms of natural aesthetic and beauty. Yavin 4, it seemed, was composed of tall, robust trees held down by fat, spidery roots. Calls of elusive creatures resonated throughout the forest, the coos and cries and cackles almost tangible as they swam through the air. Native predators composed an impressively low portion of the wildlife, seeing as the harmless, curious creatures quickly peeked around from their cover.  **_Or, perhaps, they’ve simply grown accustomed to the arrival and departure of shuttles with their unwelcome residents._ ** Though, for how long the rebels must have settled for the creatures to accept their base as mere environment was another question entirely. 

 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Thrawn mused, scanning critically over the area. According to the lieutenant’s last communication with him, Colonel Veers must have crashed no more than a handful of kilometers away. While any smoke or rubble was easily masked by the canopy of trees, there was no such cover on the surface. In theory, the smoke of an ailing ship should travel with the wind, but his vision wasn’t graced with a single particle. Biting his lip, Thrawn furrowed his brow, caught between succumbing to a recklessness worthy of Max himself and remaining in place until he knew for certain which way to turn. From underneath his thoughts, a stray bird cooed.

 

**_The animals._ **

 

Realization smacked him straight across the cheeks, nearly making his cheek throb.  **_The animals. The majority originally faced in a direction inconsistent with running away from the landing site, and there are a greater concentration to the east than to the west. If they were escaping the crash, then it must be to the west._ ** He set his jaw tight, shoulders stiffening as he turned to look in his deduced direction only to see nothing that would imply anything other than a kingdom of trees awaited. Nevertheless, it remained the only direction they had. 

 

“This way, Eli,” he declared, hardly waiting a moment for comprehension before striding off on the imaginary path created by these frightened creatures. Being no stranger to navigating heavy woods, Thrawn easily gained ground on his human counterpart, who stumbled about as if it were his duty. Granted, there was a difference of experience to consider, and Thrawn toppled and tripped his fair share as well, but it was still amusing to witness. By the time the pungent scent of smoke reached his nostrils, the pair had been sufficiently dirtied up by the elements of the forest, reminding them of the true natural supremacy. 

 

At the edge of the man-made clearing lay a ship, nestled in its own crater and propped against the trunk of a lightly scorched tree. Just by looking at it, there was no denying that, without access to parts, there would be no salvaging her-- a shame, really, considering how much imperial resources had been obliterated in mere days.  _ Damn rebels… _ Had it not the potential of jeopardizing this delicate extraction, he may have humored his vengeful side and wrought righteous havoc on the adjacent rebel base before departure if only to derive a sense of equal exchange. 

 

_ An eye for an eye. A base for a base _ .

 

These thoughts trickled through his mind, not developing into much more than perverse fantasies as he scanned the area. The closer they got to the wreckage without any sighting of Veers gave them more ground as silent concern built up like a suffocating block in his chest. His survival skills were nominal, but that didn’t necessarily ensure his wisdom in a stranded situation. Did he leave the site? Was he behaving particularly foolhardy and retreated inside the smoking vessel? No, after this amount of time under this kind of heat, the doors would have welded themselves shut. Could he be trapped, then? No, that was an equally preposterous idea. While occasionally reckless, Maximilian Veers was no idiot, his strength and intellect oftentimes rivalling his own. He would know better than to seal himself in a smoldering ship, regardless of the outside dangers he may face-- after all, the possibility of survival was endlessly favorable to assured demise. 

 

**_There’s another side to the ship. There’s no need to theorize until you give the scene a full appraisal._ **

 

Whatever comfort that statement may have given him dissipated into nothingness as the duo rounded the broader shoulder of the ship. Thrawn stopped in his tracks, his heart plummeting to his feet as he drew in a sharp breath and his brain short-circuited. His emotional state, while not exactly open for all to see, was leagues more expressive than he would have otherwise liked. His lips were parted faintly, luminescent eyes wide and taking in every square inch of his surroundings, brow creased with an indecipherable wound. 

 

“ _ Max…” _

 

The word hardly rose above the decibel of a breath, but it seemed to resonate in the air. Propped against the side of the crashed ship was a man, whose broad form and tall stature appeared smaller whilst folded into a resting position. His clothes-- his Imperial uniform-- were tarnished with soot and dirt, undoubtedly from his crash and subsequent scramble to safety. Despite his messied state, he appeared content, arms crossed and head tilted back against the hull of the ship with a content, peaceful smile on his lips. Was it possible that he’d known salvation would arrive in hours rather than weeks, or was he simply basking in the admittedly pleasant warmth of the forest? In the grand scheme of things, Thrawn decided it didn’t matter-- it didn’t pfassking matter whether the world continued to spin or his heart continued to beat when those honey, blue-rimmed eyes locked on his. 

 

There were few things in life that could penetrate Thrawn’s cool demeanor and render him weak in the knees, but the brilliant smile of his beloved Max after days of thinking him dead was definitely one of them. Light from the peering sun created a halo around him, as if the heavens themselves were presenting him a gift. His breath caught in his throat, fingers curling by his sides as if unsure whether to reach out and embrace or tighten into fists. 

 

Upon recognizing his lover’s state, Max’s smile softened and he pushed himself off of the ship, gesturing openly. “Hey, look. You found me.”

 

Borderline speechless, Thrawn nodded, swallowing thickly around a painful lump in his throat. “....That I did,” he agreed, taking a hesitant step forward. “That I did…”

 

All but forgetting the world around him, his vision tunneling into a narrow window encompassing only Max; his eyes, his face, his voice, his shape, his  _ vitality _ . Just when he thought that his world had been torn from underneath him, here it stood as equally prepared to hold him up as the day they first met. His body bore the bruisings of a bumpy landing, but he appeared as flawlessly handsome and sturdy as the last time they saw one another. And here they were, breathing the same air and encompassing the same space-- a feat that only recently beforehand, Thrawn had determined a hopeless folly. 

 

For once, he was more than happy to have made an erroneous assumption. 

 

Step followed step followed step followed step until Thrawn discovered himself within arm’s reach of his love and hesitated before lifting his hand. Max remained still as cool fingers brushed against his muddy cheek, swiping away some of the crumbling dust on the surface. His eyes fluttered closed as he let loose a sigh, leaning almost imperceptibly into the touch. 

 

Thrawn’s heart lurched, but he hid it well behind the nervous bile in his throat. This skin-- this rough, dirty, broken skin that he’d feared he’d never touch again-- felt like the smoothest of granite under his fingertips. Were it not for his rigid social discipline, he may have been moved to tears. Memories of his vulnerability in the moment of realization where Pellaeon had needed to pull him from the public eye… How treacherous tears had stained his cheeks and swollen his heart to the brink of popping… Now, he was feeling the puncture stronger than ever before, and he’d sob before he allowed this exposure to slip away. 

 

Drawing in a deep, shaky breath, the Chiss dropped his hand to his side, allowing their fingers to intertwine in a gesture that felt far more intimate than it was. This one man made him feel  _ so much _ that he could hardly contain its essence, and to think that he’d allowed the universe to convince him that he was gone….. 

 

_ It would take more than a handful of lucky rebels to stop the great Colonel Veers! _

 

Pellaeon, it seemed, had been capable of reading into what Thrawn was too blind to see. Understanding and respecting the opposite argument, weighing the options like a true military man, loyalty tethered more to the game than its players-- he was what Thrawn should have been, but failed to be, in that moment. Almost subconsciously, he made a mental note to give optimism more regard in the future.

 

“That’s right.” Thrawn felt Max give his hand a reassuring squeeze, prompting him to meet his soft gaze again, not knowing he had spoken aloud. If he’d been one for romantics, the Chiss would have sworn he could easily drown in them-- especially when the corners by his eyes crinkled with the telltale brightness of a smile. “It would take at least a thousand men to knock me down, much less kill me. These trees, however, are a prickly lot.”

 

Thrawn knew the comment was meant as a joke-- something to lighten the heavy lightness weighing them both down-- but it made his stomach twist. The moment was still so sensitive, his stitched wound so tender and sore that even the suggestion of this reality being torn away made him hesitate. Rather than voice it, however, he simply tightened his hold on his hand, as if he were the tether the colonel had to life. 

 

“I can tell,” he teased, though his voice fell flat. “They’ve landed hits. That’s evidence enough of their power.” Not wanting to drag this out any longer, he angled his body so as to include Eli in his peripherals. If he wasn’t mistaken, he could have sworn that the younger human’s cheeks were a tear-streaked red.  **_Empathy-- one of the most powerful sensations. A creature feeling what another does without experiencing identical stimuli. Eli always has been better at that than I…_ **

 

“Ambassador Vanto,” he stated, using the formality as a gentle reminder that this was to be passed off as a  _ purely professional _ escapade. “I apologize if this venture has inconvenienced you in any manner, but your presence and assistance has been highly appreciated.”

 

As if noticing him for the first time, Max flashed a smile at Eli, shaking his head in pure awe. “ _ Ambassador _ Vanto, huh? That’s fancy. And you still haven’t changed a bit since last time.”

 

“Haven’t I?” Eli replied, conspicuously regaining his composure with the fleeting nerves of a man who knew he’d been caught. “My parents told me that I’m getting paler. I don’t think they realize Csilla has a sun, nor that I’m out in it more often than not.”

 

“Yeah, but being out on a planet like Csilla is more likely to get you red than bronze, you know. Unless frostburn leaves you colorful.”

 

“I can vouch that it does not,” Eli retorted, slowly regaining his humor as he was reintroduced to the familiar banter he’d left years ago. While Thrawn hadn’t necessarily  _ expected _ his dearest friend and dearest love to get along so magnificently, he wouldn’t trade the time he spent with both of them for the galaxy. 

 

Alas, that time had to be cut short lest he die of heat exhaustion. 

 

Thrawn licked his lips, catching a bead of sweat as it ran over the curve of his mouth. He was a colder being by nature, but speaking of the sweet frigidity of his homeworld whilst they stood in the brutal, humid heat of Yavin 4’s tropics exacerbated his condition. 

 

“This unforgivable heat still may, however,” he mused, guiding Max by the hand to slowly draw him toward their path. “Perhaps you could come here again before returning to the Ascendancy.”  **_Worded as a suggestion, but dictated as an implicit dismissal._ **

 

“That sounds lovely,” Max agreed, relaxing into an easy stride so as to try and hide a nearly invisible limp.  **_Nothing to be concerned about. He’s just been through a crash. Minor injuries are to be expected. If he requires help, it shall be given aboard the Chimaera._ ** “You and I can catch up some before you go. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of stories for me, right?”

 

“ _ Ah,” _ Eli caught on, falling in line beside Thrawn. It almost seemed intentional, as if he desired to bracket him between the two humans he adored most. “Maybe we will. We could go after my meetings. Something tells me that I could  _ really _ use some time to unwind after that…”

 

The conversation continued similarly as they navigated back to the shuttle, none of the trio getting any cleaner as they trudged through mud and other unsavory elements. The two humans chattered back and forth across Thrawn, who was for once  _ content _ with simply  _ listening _ to this voice he’d feared he’d never hear again. Max could be hurling a thousand damnations his way, and he’d absorb them all with glee. Irrational, yes, but his vulnerable heart couldn’t help it. As they approached the shuttle, Thrawn slowed his tread to permit Eli to board ahead, tightening his grip with minute, possessive force. Taking the hint, Max stalled as well, sparing him an inquisitive glance. 

 

**_~ “I did say it right, right?”_ **

**_“I suppose… that would depend on what you wanted to say.”_ **

**_“You know what I wanted to say.”~_ **

 

Thrawn bit lightly on his lower lip, as if teasing it into speaking. That moment had seemed so profound--almost overwhelmingly so-- and he’d stuffed it into the back of his mind to haunt his heart, but to never directly confront. For ages, it seemed unnecessary to ever ponder it outside of his soul’s fantasies, but after having come so close to having that rough, brute of a man and his botched Cheunh torn from him forever, he realized just how much it actually  _ meant _ . Holding his hand fractionally tighter as he guided them into the shuttle, he turned his head just enough to meet the exhaustion in the battered colonel’s gaze with the relief in his own. 

 

**_“_ ** **_Ch'ah ch'acah vah veah na.”_ **

**_“I love you, too.”_ **

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed (and that I didn't fuck up the characterization too badly)! You can find me on Tumblr at jumpingjaxx13 to make requests, if you like!


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